


A Cowgirl Needs a Horse

by lextenou



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Community: Kim Possible Slash Haven, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 11:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextenou/pseuds/lextenou
Summary: Ain't much need for legends 'round these parts. If there were, they might tell of Banshee. Might not. Might tell of Phoenix. Might not. Don't matter none. They knew well enough.





	A Cowgirl Needs a Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Kim Possible Slash Haven.

The low rustle of the brush in the slight breeze offered the only visible motion along the broad expanse of the dry, cracked prairie. The steep slope down toward the road was sharp enough for skidding, but gentle enough to keep balance, a perfect combination for a priceless entrance on a dusty day like today. Those down east carpetbaggers wouldn't know how to act, what with being fresh off the train. Leaning one leather clad arm against sun warmed sandstone, a slow, wicked smile curved the full lips of the former US Marshal. A Colt hung heavy on one hip as she leaned over the rock, her booted feet holding her steady on the loose dirt as she surveyed the barren landscape, the actions that were to come playing out in her mind.

In one week, a new route would run through this valley, carrying it's first load of passengers.

Shego, the Pheonix, would be there to meet it...and a certain feisty little redhead.

With a knowing smirk, she knocked the wide brim of her hat back a bit farther as she stood to her full height, towering over the low boulders of the hillside. The memory of their last meeting danced through her memory, tinging her smirk with dark intent.

Yeah...it'd definitely be fun to meet up with the Banshee again. After what had happened in Monument - well. She sure wasn't welcome in _that_ house anymore. It'd only be right for her to extend her...welcome...to the notorious redhead. 

Maybe this time, she'd even get a kiss out of it instead of a slap.

\---

"I wouldnta figured you for a whiskey drinker."

The low voice, sultry in her ear, was the last she had expected to hear in this two bit town. Pausing only momentarily in her raising of her scratched old fashioned glass, she knocked back the double in one long swallow, giving no indication of just the sort of raw aching that the teasing voice had inspired with deceptively innocent words.

Inhaling slowly, she set the glass back on the scarred but clean bar, concentrating on keeping her motions calm and unhurried. "There's a lot of things about me you wouldnta figured." Turning her head, the hard glint of green eyes took in the dusty and road worn figure before her, bellied up to the bar same as she was. 

"Been a long time...Kim." There was another name there, lurking, aching to be brought to the dim attentions of the afternoon saloon crowd by the smirking woman that stood before her, as real as a silver mine and a million times more dangerous than a dream.

The slow promise of a smile curved the full lips, dampened from mid grade whiskey. "Shoulda been longer." Unspoken curses filled her head, seeming to hang in the air between them. Held back by years of practice, Kim turned slightly, leaning against the bar with a natural casualness that spoke to just how frequently she'd been at one.

"We got business." Knocking the brim of her hat back with a finger, the dark haired woman smirked with an innate knowledge that fair made Kim's hand itch to slap it from that damned countenance. 

Restraining herself to narrowing her eyes, her smile still curving one side of her mouth, she leaned back casually, relaxing more against the bar. "Thought you'd cleared your business up in Monument." It always went back to Monument. Cursed Monument.

The former Marshal raised two fingers to the rotund and jovial bartender, raising her low voice to be heard clearly. "Another round. Whatever she's having." Within a breath, a second, equally scratched old fashioned was set before the dark woman, and two equal portions of the best whiskey to be had without going into hock slopped into the glasses. Nodding to the bartender, a slender fingered hand slid a half dollar over the frequently wiped down bar, where the bartender scooped it up slick as a rustler. The freshly filled glass was raised to an aquiline nose, which sniffed experimentally. "Your taste ain't improved none." Without a further word, the smirking woman tipped her glass back and let the tolerable liquor slide down her throat.

"Not in drinks, at least." The cold glint of hard green eyes raked over the grime besmirched leather and cloth that adorned the former Marshal. "In other ways...I've learned to appreciate certain things." The whiskey was knocked back in the same fashion as the first, and the toned redhead pushed away from the bar. "C'mon. Our business is elsewhere." 

Striding from the bar without a glance backwards, Kim's strong legs carried her across the room. The low rumble of the thin crowd covered the sound of booted feet on the much abused wood of the stairs leading to the upper rooms, separated from the good time rooms by an extra landing and a curtain. Slightly quieter in the upper hall, she was able to discern the soft tread of a second pair of boots over the slats. One hand on the door, she waited a scant breath before the dark haired figure she expected slid through the doorway, the slender bulk of the woman she'd thought she'd left behind once again invading her senses. 

A long moment stretched between them as Kim's roughened palm pressed flat against the door, shutting it firmly. Her fingers slid down the dark wood to lift the latch into place, a slender security, but one that worked enough for her purposes. 

Still, they stared across the bare handspans between them. An insidious craving to feel the former Marshal's skin beneath her fingers had Kim fisting her hands at her sides. Carefully measuring her breaths, she kept her gaze stern and level, belying the tense anticipation that thrilled along her every nerve. She could feel anew the soft, firmly demanding press of those knowingly smirking lips. The sensation of those strongly capable hands curving around her cotton clad hips was as fresh as though they had just drawn their bodies flush. 

She would not submit again. Not to those raw and rampant desires that made this woman the one thing she could never resist. She must remain steadfast. Surely, having lain with Nicolette so recently would allow her to curb the unnatural hunger.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, her feet moved her closer to the svelte figure that had haunted her for years. She would hate herself for her weakness, but the illicit sensation sent her soul soaring. Peace as she'd never known was found in the decadent press of that teasing mouth. The barest brush of fingers against bared skin was enough to heal pains she had not known existed. Intensity reborn cascaded through her, a forcible and undeniable reminder of what, exactly, it all was. 

She could try to resist, and she would, but she knew...she would always return to Shego's arms. 

Somehow...she wasn't all that upset about it.


End file.
